I am trying to revive my vocabulary of big, complicated English words, but I feel like I'm falling short. My vocabulary of big, complicated Arabic words is nonexistent, though, so really I guess I'm still vaguely ahead of the game. Arabic is difficult to remember, for me, because there are very few cognates (Spanish? I could be fluent by now.) and a lot of things just don't stick. Not to mention, when you speak to people in the street in fosha, they stare at you awkwardly because they really, eighty percent of the time, do not understand fosha. Our speaking capabilities have gone down the toilet, mostly because when we do talk, it's a verbal mash of formal and colloquial Arabic, understandable to us students but largely incomprehensible to the majority of citizens. We meet the occasional sahib who knows some fosha from his university days, but taxi drivers? The raees of the microbus? The guy selling you pomegranates? Forget it, man. I do apologize in advance for any weird, convoluted English grammatical constructions I may invent, because I imagine that will be a reflection of my Arabic thought process working its merry way into my general language skills.
Our first week in Alexandria was an eye-opener for a lot of students. I really, honestly, had very few preconceptions of what life would be like in Egypt, and what little I had imagined was vague and more of an emotional ideal than actual thoughts. All I know is that it was not what I expected, but I can't tell you what, exactly, I expected because I don't know myself. Still, one schoolmate took one look at our dorm building the night we arrived and went, "Oh, shit." It's a large concrete slab, much like the rest of Egypt, with absolutely no character save the police shack outside and the group of men sitting on plastic chairs who seem to have taken up permanent residence in a spot where they can get a glimpse of young girls walking to class every day. But I mean, hey, it's a dorm, and Egypt once had some pretty strong Communist leanings, so it's no surprise that the newer apartments and such are functional and devoid of personality. St. Mark's College, on the other hand, is very pretty, and right across the street (behind an iron fence) and affords a nice view at which to stare longingly. But I don't speak French, and that's a French school, so what can you do, eh?
Alexandria is not like Cairo. It's more open, at least the closer you are to the sea, and there are a lot less foreigners. People stare at you everywhere you go. I have seen one group of white folks walking by the Library, and that's about it. The others, who obviously do not belong, are us and the other study abroad students who are arriving in large part this week. I feel bad for the others (not in our program) because as we discovered last night at dinner, they do not speak Arabic very well, and we can at least get by. It's a bummer for them because a) we cannot speak English here and b) while Egyptians know "hello" and "how are you" very well, any more advanced English requires education in the sciences, since those exams (and classes, in the medical school) are in English. So, yes, like I said earlier, good luck trying to work your way around the language barrier.
Being a woman here is... difficult. We get stared at more than the men, which is not surprising. I imagined it would be worse. I thought I'd get harassed constantly, but it has generally been limited to some catcalls and a lot (and I do mean a lot) of staring. It's blatant leering, too, not just what I would call staring, because leering has that creepy connotation that simple staring lacks. I wouldn't mind being stared at. I mind being leered at. It's not really a nice feeling to know that conversations stop when you walk by and the shabaab follow you for a few feet before they figure out you're really not interested. There are people who will turn their heads to gawk at you as they're walking by, which is not very subtle and, dare I say, incredibly rude. The ladies here aren't much nicer, sometimes, because although they're not checking you out, some of them have this look of absolute disdain as their imperial gaze sweeps over you, and if you ain't wearing a hijab then Allah save you from Madame and her judgments. Also, girls with hair on their arms are like girls with Chewbacca legs back in the States -- if you're wearing short sleeves and you have hair, it's considered pretty gross.
But folks are generally really nice. You get the occasional groper, the occasional asshole, the occasional fellow who shoves his way to the front of the line because lines don't exist in Egypt and also because he's a man and you're a woman and by law of nature he comes first, but people are people, and there's kind ones too. Egyptians like to help people, and if you're lost or if you need help, be prepared for a long, ten-minute help session. Sometimes people will just grab you by the hand and lead to where you need to be, which is awkward for those of us who aren't used to touching but very normal here. Speaking of touching, the bro love is intense -- you see guys walking around with linked arms, arms around each others' shoulders, holding hands, but without any sort of sexual implication. The American guys find that a little weird (a lot weird).
The girls in our dorms are all sweethearts. They're very loud and very giggly, and they're quite tolerant of our bumbling Arabic. Unfortunately for me, my roommate doesn't get back until next week, and some woman came in and rubbed the mold off my wall with a wet rag, but that doesn't get rid of the MOLD ON MY WALL that will probably grow back within a few days. And I don't know the words for "mold" or "fumigation" so I'm more or less up shit creek without a paddle.
another truckstop on the way another game that I can play another word I learn to say
another blasted customs post another bloody foreign coast another set of scars to boast
WE ARE THE ROAD CREW
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